


More Deadly Than the Male

by Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw



Series: The Female of the Species [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Flirting, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Fluff, Minor Character Death, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-09-20 13:06:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9492350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw/pseuds/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw
Summary: What if Ashley Williams and Samantha Traynor met on Horizon?  What if they hit it off? How would that change the rest of the story?Or: She's an Alliance Marine; She's an asthmatic college kid: they fight Collectors.Or: AU retelling of Mass Effect 2, this time with more queer ladies.





	1. Prologue: New Assignments, New Acquaintances

**Author's Note:**

> This work and its two planned sequels have all been written, probably totaling around 40K words. Massive amounts of thanks to betas starbirdrampant(ineasko22) and imaginary_golux. So much better thanks to them.
> 
> More tags will be added as new characters are introduced. Main pairing will be Traynor/Williams with others as background/mentioned pairs.

“Councilor?” Ashley snaps to attention and salutes as humanity’s councilor enters the room. Colonel Moderan had told her that she was going to receive a new assignment, that it was going to be hush-hush, but she’d expected, y’know, an _Admiral_. 

“At ease, Chief.” Anderson clasps her hands warmly. “How’s garrison life treating you? Be honest, I won’t rat you out.”

“Honestly, sir? It sucks armor-plated turian balls.”

He smiles, easy and genuine. “I was hoping you’d say that. Glad to see you’re still a marine, and not a glorified security guard.” He sets a folder on the table. “Have you heard about the missing colonies out in the Terminus Systems?”

Ashley nods. “My mother and sisters are still on Amaterasu, sir. Trying to convince them to move closer to Earth.” She wrinkles her nose. This was unusually oblique for Anderson, even allowing for his time among the politicians. Unless… “Do you want me to investigate?”

“I wish I could have had the pleasure of serving beside you, Chief. As it is, I’ll have to trust my gut, the mission reports, and Shepard’s recommendation.” He slides the folder towards her. “But you’re damn right I want you to investigate.” He keeps talking as she skims through the mission brief. “We’ll station you on a colony world under the guise of helping install some defenses and other infrastructure upgrades, maybe train a militia. Useful to do anyway, and maybe it’ll help the next time...whatever it is...happens.” 

“Sounds like an idea, sir, but why me?”

“Because you’ve got the grit, the intuition, and the skills to get it done. Because you’ve seen things most of us don’t want to imagine, and if this has something to do with the Reapers, I need someone who will report it honestly and not disbelieve their eyes. And,” he leans in towards her, “there have been rumors that Commander Shepard has been operating out in the Terminus Systems. Flying Cerberus colors, no less.”

Ashley sucks in a breath like she’s been slugged. “What? I can’t…” 

“I find the rumors difficult to believe myself, Williams.” He clenches his hands. “That’s why I need you to investigate.”

She finds herself nodding. Find Shepard, save humanity, give Cerberus a bad hair day. Practically SOP. “You can count on me, sir.” 

***

“You know we’ve invested too much in the Lazarus Project for Shepard to fail.” The Illusive Man takes a drag. Hiroto Ueno stands at attention. “Which is why I am assigning you to Wolfshadow Cell.” Ueno’s features remain implacable despite his internal frustration with his employer’s obsession with needlessly dramatic codenames. 

“I look forward to the new assignment.”

“You’ll rendezvous with Dr. Kendricks at these coordinates.” Ueno’s omnitool buzzes. “You will supervise Kendricks and the other scientists and report directly to me.” A thin grin crosses his lips. “I think you’ll find Dr. Kendricks has an...intriguing...subject.”

***

The promotion had been about the only positive surprise about the new assignment. Ash--make that Lieutenant Ashley Williams, Systems Alliance Marines, thank you--hadn’t expected to be given a hero’s welcome. Still didn’t feel like a hero, for one thing. But the out-and-out cold shoulder from most of the colony’s residents? That was a surprise. “Fuck it,” she grunts, setting up a fresh set of targets at the end of the range. By which she meant a fresh row of cans at the far end of a clear space on the outskirts of the colony because Horizon was well and truly out in the middle of nowhere.

What would Shepard do, she wonders to herself? “Probably just put her best face on it,” she decides, flicking off the safety on her Viper and inhaling. Crash-Crash-Crash-Crash-Crash-Crash go the bottles. She exhales, contented.

“Wow,” comes a very small voice from behind her.


	2. Student and Traynor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Samantha gives seduction her best shot, and Ashley has her plate full with the Traynor family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gods willing, chapters will continue to post Saturdays. This is a more typical chapter length--the prologue was rather shorter.

Samantha watches as the Alliance officer clears the spent heat sink, re-engages the safety, and shoulders her weapon. “And to think I only came out here by accident.” She blushes and extends her hand. “Sorry, have we met? Samantha Traynor. Call me Sam.” She isn’t ogling the other woman too blatantly, is she? Because she doesn’t even like guns--didn’t even like guns, apparently--but _hot damn_. 

“Ashley Williams.” Sam accepts her handshake. “Not interested in learning how to shoot?”

“I probably should; the Alliance paid for my tuition, and I’ll be enlisting after my last semester. But as a noncombat analyst.” God, Sam, don’t talk about yourself so much--you’ll drive her off and you’ve barely met her. “Unlike you, apparently--that was bloody impressive!”

Ash blushes. “Lots of practice. Harder when they’re shooting back. Though at least the geth have the courtesy to put lights on their heads.”

“You’ve fought geth?” Sam asks, eyes wide. She looks around, heart fluttering with a weird blend of eagerness, terror, and lust. “Do you think they’re behind the colonies vanishing? We hadn’t got too many reports back on Earth.” 

Ashley shakes her head. “Not a chance. I don’t know what’s going on…” she hesitates before bringing Sam into her confidence, “but I mean to find out.” 

Sam’s eyes nearly bug out of her head. “I thought you were here to help install the GARDIAN towers?” 

“About that…” Ash raises a gloved hand to the back of her neck. “I’m not actually that good with the computer end of things.” Not like Kaidan, she thinks. “I’m just a grunt with a commission. Hell, you’d probably know more about the systems involved than I do. Want to give me a hand?”

Sam can’t believe her luck. “S-sure!” Her throat seizes up before she can say more; she fumbles, embarrassingly, for her inhaler. “I’m fine,” she reassures Ashley before the taller woman can grow too concerned.

“Great!” A muscular hand claps her on the shoulder. “And, uh, maybe I could teach you a few things out on the ‘range’ since you’ll be doing me a favor.”

“That’d be great! I mean, it’s not like I have much to do here--I’m just visiting my family while I’m on break.”

“That must be nice.” She pauses a moment, and recites: “To think how much pleasure there is!/ Have you pleasure from looking at the sky? have you pleasure from poems?/ Do you enjoy yourself in the city? or engaged in business? or planning a nomination and election? or with your wife and family?/ Or with your mother and sisters? or in womanly housework? or the beautiful maternal cares?” She twists her hands awkwardly. “Sorry, I--bad habit. Walt Whitman. Poems just seem to come popping out. Not that I think you have maternal cares. Or a wife.”

“Not yet,” Sam says with a giggle. “But give it time.” God, Sam, could you flirt any more shamelessly? The next thing you know, you’ll be inviting her down for tea.

“Well,” Ash says composedly. “Good luck with that.” Which she genuinely means--she’s a little old-fashioned in some ways but after her second-youngest sister, Lynn, announced she was a lesbian at fourteen, that was that. Family was family. Which reminds her… “This is a little forward of me but...would you mind if I joined your folks for dinner sometime? Gets a little lonely out here.”

Samantha abruptly abandons her plans for the rest of the day and vows to head to the colony’s chapel for prayers of thanksgiving. “Let me just ask my parents!” If her voice is a little high-pitched, Ashley doesn’t comment on it. Settle down, Sam, you’re better than this. Cool, seductive...or possibly just back to the asthmatic geek with the crush on the track star in high school. Dammit. 

“Sure,” Ashley says. “You want to take a few practice shots while we’re out here?” Sam tries not to agree too quickly. Ashley coaches the younger woman through the basics of gun safety, and Sam has to remember not to close her eyes before emptying a clip into the hill which forms the backstop for the firing range. “I, uh, think you got one. Not bad for a first go.”

“Shut up!” Sam blushes. “You’re having me on.”

“I was being serious. For a college kid who’s never done this before, not bad.” She shows her how to clean and store the weapon. “Now it’s your turn--time to make me look stupid over at the gun tower.”

Samantha downplays her skills, but Ashley is sure the work is going faster. “Tying the lasers into the satellite comm grid? That was all you. We got a lot more accomplished today than I would have alone.” She glances at her watch as her stomach rumbles. “That, erm, might possibly be due to the fact that it’s nearly 2100 hours.”

Samantha’s expression goes from confused to horrified as she does the conversion to civilian time. “My parents are going to kill me! I didn’t realize it was that late.”

“I’d better come with you--I can explain.”

So gallant, Sam thinks, and tries not to swoon into those muscular arms. “Thanks,” she manages. “Come on, this way.” She takes Ashley by the hand--ooh, strong grip--and leads her gleefully through the colony to the prefab her family calls home. “Mum? Dad? Brendan? Kyle?”

“Samantha! There you are.” Elizabeth Traynor puts her cards down to greet her daughter. “There’s leftovers on the stove--enough for two, as it happens.”

“So...you weren’t worried about me?”

“Brendan saw you on his way back from school with…”

“Ashley Williams, Alliance marine, ma’am.” She offers Elizabeth her hand. “Pleased to meet you and yours; sorry to have kept Samantha.”

Elizabeth looks from Ashley to Samantha’s face, slightly flushed with exertion. “Just so long you take care of her. So, will you be joining us for dinner, or cards, or both?”

“I, um.” Ashley’s stomach rumbled treacherously. “Thank you, ma’am. Both, please.”

Her smile fills a creased face lined with dark hair streaked with white. She turns back to Ashley. “Come on, we’ll deal you in while Samantha heats you up some curry. Please, be our guest.”

Ashley is far too hungry to turn down the hospitality and joins Samantha’s parents and brothers around a small table. “What are you guys playing? Skyllian Five?”

“Sabacc, actually,” says the eldest Traynor male, Martin. Brendan looks a little embarrassed. Typical teenager, Ashley thinks. 

“Never heard of it,” says Ashley, surprised. She’s played a lot of cards in a lot of barracks. 

“That would be because it’s from the Star Wars movies. Don’t worry, it’s easy to learn.”

She does, in fact, pick the game up quickly; even wins a hand in between bowls of curry. “Beginner’s luck.”

“Don’t be so modest,” teases Kyle, who Ashley guesses is about her age. “So, what is it you do?”

She laughs, because modesty isn’t something she’s usually accused of. “The SA’s concerned about the disappearances, so they sent me out here to train a militia and set up a laser defense system,” she explains. She doesn’t reveal her true mission, already kicking herself over telling Samantha. 

“I’m glad someone is doing something.” Martin deals another hand of cards. “We came out here because the Earth was too crowded, not because we wanted to get away from the man.”

“Where’s that old protester I married?” Elizabeth teases. Ashley raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you should have seen him--hair longer than yours, when you let it out of that ponytail, if you can believe it.”

“Moving out to the colonies is about all the nonconformity I have left in me, dearest.”

“If I may ask, what was it you were protesting?”

“What weren’t we protesting?” Martin snorts. “Miracle I made it through school. Drug policy. Racial injustice, though we seem to have moved on to hating people for being blue and green instead of black and brown.” Ashley nods, idly wondering if there was some Indian subcontinent in Sam’s heritage. “And now of course we’ve got our eldest going off to join the military. Everything comes full circle, I suppose.”

“Mind you, we never had any trouble with the military. Local police, mind you…” Elizabeth trails off, then fills the silence with a laugh. “Fun times. What was it you used to do?”

“Oh, nothing too exciting. Just coming off a garrison posting, actually. Military not always the glamourous position you were hoping for.” Serving on the Normandy feels like a lifetime ago--has it only been two years? “What about the Traynor boys? Brendan? Kyle?”

“Still in school.” Brendan looks like he’s trying to hide behind his shaggy bangs. “Then...I dunno. More school, maybe. Heh.”

“You’re young, yet.” God, she thinks. She hadn’t even been to basic yet at his age. “Let me know if you need any advice. If I haven’t done it, one of my sisters probably has.”

“Uh, thanks.” He blushes. “You, uh, don’t have to do that.”

“No trouble,” Ashley assures him. “If I can stop one heart from breaking,/ I shall not live in vain;/ If I can ease one life the aching,/ Or cool one pain,/ Or help one fainting robin/ Unto his nest again,/ I shall not live in vain.”

“Cool!” Brendan looks at her with a newfound respect. “I, erm, always liked poetry classes.”

“You never told us that,” Martin chides him, then turns to Ashley. “Guess that makes you an honorary Traynor.”

“Thank you, sir,” she says. She’s forgotten how much she missed this, both her own family and the ground crew from the SR-1. 

“Ah, between the three of them, we’re pretty used to our children bringing girls home for us to meet,” Elizabeth explains. “More curry?”

“No, ma’am.” Ashley smiles. “Delicious, though.”

“Traynor family recipe. We’ll share more if you’re lucky, soldier.” Elizabeth chuckles. “You two have any plans for tomorrow?”

“Probably more of the same.” Sam shrugs. “Not how I thought I was going to spend my break, but hopefully we’ll have a good time.”

“Just don’t forget about your old man,” says Martin, swiping a hand over his bald head, yawning. “What do you say? Time for bed?”

Ashley facepalms; she’s lost track of time for the second time today. “I should get going,” she says hastily, grabbing her jacket. “Thank you all again.” She leaves, quickly, not wanting to overstay her welcome, needing to think. She really liked Sam, and meeting her family. It felt...natural? Almost too natural. Like what she would have imagined being brought home by her boyfriend for the first time should feel like. Including the occasional flirting, which she really should have done more to discourage. It wasn’t like she felt--wasn’t like she could feel anything romantic for her. She hadn’t had a whole lot of romance in her life--had loved and lost Kaidan, most recently--but always with men. 

She sighs and shoves her fists into the pockets of her jacket. Might as well take a nice brisk walk in the cool night air--it wasn’t like she had anyone supervising her to make her stick to a schedule. That would clear her head. Nice, brisk walk beneath the stars and the full moon. For some reason she tries to imagine how Samantha’s dark eyes would look in the moonlight. Where the hell did that come from? On second thought, maybe she should just go to bed. Her cold, lonely bed. Fuck. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poems quoted are Walt Whitman's "To Think of Time" and Emily Dickinson's "If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking." Line breaks marked with '/'


	3. Which Way to the Gun Show?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Traynor learns to shoot.

“So, you still want to learn to shoot?”

“Of course,” Sam says eagerly. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“No reason.” Ashley sets up a fresh row of rubbish. “So, what did you want to start with?”

“Something light?”

Ashley rummages around her portable gun case until she finds what she’s looking for. “M-6 Shuriken. Nice and light, and fires a six-round burst, so you should be able to hit something.”

“Mean!” Sam laughs, but slips on the hearing and eye protection and checks the safety as Ashley guides her through the checklist before squeezing the trigger. Her arm jerks up with the recoil and the six rounds tear into the hillside. “God, I’m hopeless.”

“Maybe that’s more of a short-range weapon,” Ash says sheepishly. “Besides, not everyone has to rate on every weapon--most people don’t. Hell, even Shepard doesn’t have top marks on assault rifles, and she’s the Hero of the Citadel.”

“Wait, _the_ Commander Shepard? _That’s_ the Shepard you were talking about? The one you have a crush on?”

“I don’t,” she starts to deny half-heartedly. “Well, maybe, but it’s no big deal--literally everyone on the Normandy would have gone to bed with her. Even Urdnot Wrex, and he was a krogan.”

“Kinky,” Samantha says approvingly. Her eyes fall away from Ashley’s to the bag of weapons. “Are you trained on _all_ of these?”

“Well, yes,” Ash admits sheepishly, remembering why they are here. “Try this one,” she offers, picking up her M-15 Vindicator. “Much less recoil.”

“So you have more... _diverse_...tastes than you let on,” Sam says, checking the weapon. “Is my aim true?” she asks before Ashley can respond.

She gulps, but leans over the younger woman to peer over the sight. “Looks good to me.” She steps back and lets Sam fire, punching a hole in a rusted-out bucket. “Looks damn good.” She claps Sam on the shoulder (in a totally platonic, friendly way). “That open dinner invitation still standing?”

“Of course! I think my parents are glad to have a few extra faces around the table.”

***

“I don’t see what an _assassin_ and hacker has any business doing supervising a scientific mission,” Kendricks bites out.

“If you had read my dossier as thoroughly as I have read yours, you would know that I have a graduate degree in xenobiology.” Ueno retorts.

“Which you now put to no better use than knowing exactly where to shoot your targets.” Kendricks’ lip twists into a sneer.

“Enough,” the assassin ends the conversation without changing the tone of his voice. “I was informed that you had charge of an unusual subject.”

“Ah, yes, most unique. I can safely say that there is only one other such specimen in the galaxy, which is why I needed a trial subject, who was, I am proud to say, also a success. Please, Mr. Ueno, this way.” He guides the other man to a pod. “She is incomplete, but she is still beautiful in her glass coffin, is she not?”

Ueno’s brain takes a moment to comprehend what his eyes are telling him. His eyebrows raise imperceptibly. “Extraordinarily beautiful.”

***

That evening, Ashley winds up at the same end of the table as Kyle. “So, any big plans?”

“Thinking about trying to join Cerberus,” he says, eyes carefully watching her.

“Really?” She tries to pass her disgust off as surprise, just to be polite.

“Hey, at least they’re trying,” he says defensively. His face falls as he suddenly remembers his audience.

“If by ‘trying’ you mean experimenting on rachni and killing admirals,” she snorts. “Not exactly installing surface-to-air turrets in the grand scheme of things, but I suppose there’s always the naked bigotry to consider.” Wrex was like the big brother she’d never had, and Tali was...well, another little sister. She smiles mirthlessly. The stares at the table are equally divided between her and Kyle. Well, now she’s done it… “I should go.” 

“No, stay.” Elizabeth looks implacably at both of them. “I believe you have both realized your errors.” 

“Yes’m,” they both mutter under their breaths.

“I...take it you were speaking from experience?” Martin asks. Ashley nods. “I expect you must have some interesting stories to tell.”

Ashley nods instinctively; the duty of a good guest comes to her, natural as breathing. And that means, among other things, providing entertaining company. “So, my last posting, my CO insisted on leading every ground mission, which meant taking the Mako for a spin. Cramped, hot, full of sweaty people, and constantly climbing bumpy hills and jumping off cliffs. Damned miracle Shepard didn’t rattle the undercarriage to nuts and bolts. We all learned not to eat anything two hours before the Skipper took us for a spin.” 

***

“So, what needs to happen before your subject is ready to perform?”

Kendricks recites a familiar litany. “While the base is complete, the necessary enhancements need to be installed. And, of course, the original would need to be deemed unsuitable. And that decision would need to come from the Illusive Man directly.” A warped smile. “After all, we went to such expense to obtain the original.” 

“So I am told.” Ueno surveys the subject once more. “An interesting commodity to be certain… But, I think, only truly valuable if the original is destroyed.” He turns back to Kendricks. “I confess that I, too, was uncertain as to my utility with respect to your project. But now, I think, I understand why the Illusive Man assigned me to the Wolfshadow Cell.”

***

Sam listens politely along with the rest of her engrossed family, her heart steadily plummeting as she listens to the lieutenant rave about _the_ Commander Shepard. “So instead of swerving away from the giant pool of thresher maw venom, she guns the throttle and hits the thrusters to jump clear over the acid, screaming and laughing like a banshee. Poor Liara had turned from sky blue to a queasy seafoam green…” Sam wishes she could be half so daring. Surely it wouldn’t take quite so much courage as all that to tell Ashley how she feels. But you haven’t got even that, she thinks to herself. Coward. She sits on her hands and resigns herself to listening to the rest of Ashley’s war stories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you keeping score at home, the shooting range scene in this chapter was, as far as I remember, the genesis for this entire story.


	4. New Horizons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's that shadow in the sky?...

They continue the dance for the rest of the week: working on the laser turrets and other infrastructure, practicing at the shooting range, and having dinner and games with the Traynors, punctuated by the occasional evening walk. Ashley learns Sam’s favorite flower is jasmine, discovers exactly how well Sam’s eyes catch the moon and the stars. Not a lesbian, she reminds herself. Just really good friends. At most, a weird sort of crush like you have on Shepard, whatever the hell that means. Because you admire her, like you do Shepard, but in a different way, because Sam’s so good with computers, and is so smart, and...fuck. Why couldn’t this just be easy? She liked spending time with Sam and her family. Why couldn’t Kyle be the one to catch her eye? Sweet boy but…

Ash’s conjectures go out the window as a ship darkens the skies over the colony. “That’s not Alliance,” she mutters. Is, in fact, not anything in any known navy anywhere. But she’s seen it before. “Sam, get your family out of here.” She unlimbers her assault rifle, uses the scope to confirm the wrenching in her gut. She cuts off Sam’s protest. “Go!” She fires a burst at an angry swarm because it’s better than not doing anything. Same damn ship, same damn panicky feeling. Same running around trying to save who she can. “Get everyone to the shelters!” She fights down her terror: she just knows that whatever these bugs are, they’re bad news. And they’re probably part of how all those people got taken without leaving a trace. She tries not to think about how negligible her bullets are against this horde of locusts. Maybe if Kaidan were here, he could use his biotics; maybe he would have gotten the towers online faster-- _Stop it_ , says the voice in her head, which sounds inexplicably like Sam’s cultured English. She sprays covering fire at the insects, retreating as she does, urging the civilians into their shelters. She tries desperately to signal the Alliance or warn the other colonists, but the comm lines are completely jammed. She supposes she shouldn’t be surprised. 

What does surprise her are the four-eyed aliens, armed with some kind of organic-looking weaponry. She wants one of the freaky guns immediately--not, she notes, turning one of the bug-heads into ichor, that her own Avenger doesn’t do very nice work. She hopes the Traynors are safe, empties her clip into another alien’s chest, ducks to reload. “Come on, you ugly sons-of-bitches,” she says through gritted teeth. The air is starting to get thick with the swarms, now, and she fires and fires, hoping to hit a few of the big fuckers through the clouds. She reloads again just as one of the little guys lands on the back of her neck and stings her before she can react. She can feel her muscles stiffen and instinctively squeezes the trigger, aiming at one of the thickest clouds, getting off one last clip as paralysis sets in. 

***

Meanwhile, Sam runs. Blindly at first, but then towards the outskirts of the settlement where the emergency shelters are. She wishes vaguely for any of Ashley’s guns, not that they’d do her any good; wishes rather more concretely for Ashley. But it wouldn’t do her any good to go running back now, she thinks, heart pounding too hard to be forlorn. 

She runs and runs, path twisting away from the locust-like invaders until she is lost in a complete panic, finally just ducking into the nearest open prefab and shutting the door of the blocky building behind her. She backs away from the door, slowly, quietly. Maybe if they don’t see her, don’t hear her… 

She gulps, because she can hear them. Buzzing, right behind her. She swats and flails, maybe crushes one of them, but another one bites her on the back of the hand. She locks up almost immediately. She can still feel the bug crawling over the exposed skin of her forearm, scrabbling little legs and metallic bristles. She feels the brush of air as the _thing_ takes off. She can feel her sweaty clothes constricting around her. She can feel every bit of dust landing on her skin, her open mouth, her eyelashes. She can feel every drop of the rancid fear sweat as it trickles down from her armpits to her frozen knees. She feels like she’ll never be clean again.

She loses her sense of time. She can’t move, not even her eyes, but at least there’s a window in her field of vision. There is nothing to hear except the incessant hum of the swarms...and, now, gunfire. Her heart pounds as two four-eyed aliens spot her through the window, turning and heading straight for her. Well, this is it, she thinks, I’m fucked. Then both aliens explode. She watches as a giddy krogan and a young woman wearing nothing but tattoos and straps go tearing by, followed by a face that nearly everyone in the galaxy recognized. Shepard, she thinks. If she could have gulped, she would have. She could certainly see why Ashley had a crush. 

She finally, blessedly, regains the ability to move. Her extremities are still stiff and her back aches, but she can walk on her brick-like feet. She staggers through the colony, sees a stone-faced Shepard leaving, her strange colleagues in tow. Sam is a little clueless sometimes, but even she can read the palpable aura of “back the fuck off.” Which is a shame, because she wants to run up to the woman and thank her, kiss her hand, offer her her suppliant body. But she takes a deep breath and keeps moving, trying to find her family, or Ashley, or both.

Samantha meets up with Ashley first. “You’re still here?”

“Hoping I got abducted? Sorry, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“N-no! I just figured you’d go with your commander-slash-best pal-slash-crush.”

“You saw her too, then.” Sam is shocked by the disgust in Ashley’s voice.

“She saved my life! And if any of my family are still here, then…” her voice trails off. “Oh my God, my family!” She sprints off like a headless chicken, shouting the names of her loved ones.

***

“Operative Ueno.” The Illusive Man lights a fresh cigarette. “I need you to prepare your final report on Wolfshadow. Make sure it has everything your successor will need to take over as smoothly as possible.”

“Am I being reassigned?” If Ueno was surprised, the Illusive Man can’t tell.

“Operative Brooks will take over Wolfshadow, though I suspect she may have need of your services in the future. You will join Ubermensch Cell, and work with Dr. Ruud, the current project lead. A new development has come to light and I need you to obtain some materials for her.” Reassigned to yet another grandiosely-named project to run errands for yet another scientist. Ueno files his disgust away to be vented later. The Illusive Man has yet to lead him astray, he reminds himself. “I’m forwarding you the mission parameters now. Discuss any questions you have with Dr. Ruud.”

“I look forward to it.” 

***

It’s not until early next morning that they are physically able to talk about it. Ashley stops by because it’s a time for family, and the Traynors--what’s left of them--are the closest things she has, especially with the comm buoys still scrambled. 

“It could have been worse,” Elizabeth says, tries to mean it. “All the Alvarezes got taken except for Cristobal.”

“Brendan might still come back.” Martin drums his fingers on the table. “He probably just got high with Mario again. Passed out. Doesn’t even realized what’s happened yet.”

“Mario’s gone, Martin,” Elizabeth says gently. “And his mother and grandmother, too. I ran into Mr. Campanella late last night; he told me.”

The frantic spark in Martin Traynor’s eyes goes out. “I’m sorry about Brendan and Kyle, sir,” Ashley says quietly. “If there’s anything I could have done...if there’s anything I can do now?”

“Why don’t you take Sam and go for a walk, see if there’s anything you can do for anyone else,” Elizabeth says. “We just need a little time.”

Ash nods, and Sam follows her. “How are you holding up?”

“Honestly? I’m a complete wreck.” She doesn’t want to admit to the hour she spent under the shower spray, scrubbing and sobbing. 

“Yeah.” She throws an arm around Sam for the comfort of touch. Her breath hitches when Sam nuzzles into her side.

“I’ve never really lost anyone before.”

“Lucky.” Her father, the 212, Kaidan.... She can still hear their voices. “At least you’ve still got hope.”

“Yeah, I guess.” They stop as Samantha tucks her face against the meat of her shoulder; Ashley can feel the warmth of the tears. “But I also can’t start grieving, either. Which means I can’t finish. What happens if I never find out, one way or the other?”

“I…” At least she has a gravestone to read poetry over. “I’ll do whatever I can to help find them.”

“So, what happens next? For you, I mean.”

“I should help rebuild, secure all that random alien tech lying around for the Alliance to pick up.”

“Not going to chase your crush? Shepard?” she clarifies a breathless beat later.

“I--” She stops. “You don’t know what Cerberus has done, Sam. They’re terrorists. Black ops gone bad.”

“And yet they’re the ones who are actually looking for Brendan and Kyle.” Sam’s jaw drops and she pulls back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t--”

“It’s okay,” Ash reassures her. “You’ve been through a lot.” But she starts to doubt--can they really be that bad if Shepard is working for them? Or with them? Or whatever the fuck their arrangement is. “C’mon, let’s go back home,” and Sam’s heart does flipflops, “and make some tea.”

“We’ll make a proper Englishwoman of you yet,” Sam teases, and laughs in spite of everything.

“No!” They can hear Martin shout as they come back, and quicken their pace.

“We’ve got the space and the resources, and Cris doesn’t have anyone.”

“We are _not_ replacing our sons.”

“No. We aren’t. We can’t.” They arrive in time to see Elizabeth standing, jaw set. “But we can help a little boy who has lost his entire world.” She takes Martin’s hands. “Please, dear.” The morning light glints off the tears in their eyes.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Okay. We can do this.”

“Reminds me of Shepard,” Ashley murmurs while they’re still out of polite conversation range. “She was always one for everyone doing their part, for pulling everyone into one big family.”

“Didn’t have you pegged for an incest kink,” Samantha teases. 

“Traynor!” She punches the younger woman in the shoulder.

“Watch those muscles, Williams.” Isn’t that my job?

“You okay?” Ashley asks, suddenly tender. “I, ah, can forget my own strength.” She rubs Sam’s arm gingerly.

“I’m fine. And, yes, you can.” 


	5. Strange Bedfellows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to get the old Normandy gang back together.

Rebuilding doesn’t take as long as it might given the casualty rates. At least not the physical side of things, the things Ashley can do. The Collectors weren’t interested in destroying the colony, just harvesting it like wheat. There are some repairs from the firefight, but the deadened eyes that only flare with hatred when they see her at all...those she can’t heal.

Sam helps her reestablish communications with the outside world. The first message she sends is to her family; the second is to Shepard begging forgiveness. 

Mostly, she just arranges for the Collector tech to be stockpiled: the stasis pods, the guns, even the corpses. An Alliance spec ops team swings by to pick up the lot and drop off her new orders: continue to investigate the Collectors and Cerberus. She thanks the Traynors for their hospitality, wishes them well, and tells them that she’ll probably be leaving the colony as soon as she can arrange for transport. “Looks like I’m on my own again,” she mutters. Such is life in the rarefied air of the commissioned officers.

“You’ve still got me,” Sam reminds her. Ash startles; she hadn’t realized the girl was there. “And your crush--trust me on this one--out there in the stars.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Ash asks, tabling the probably-inevitable discussion of her sexuality for another day.

Sam shrugs. “You’re supposed to look into Cerberus and the Collectors. Lucky you, we happen to know a Cerberus ship investigating the Collectors.”

“Hang on, ‘we?’”

“I didn’t mean--not necessarily--” Sam blushes and uses her inhaler, mostly as a crutch to gather her thoughts. “I don’t start classes again for another month, and then I can attend all of my lectures and submit my assignments remotely. And yes, I would love to help you find my brothers.” And spend time with you. “Assuming you want to have me along?”

“I, um,” Why has she gone all tongue-tied? “Didn’t think you’d be interested.”

Samantha shrugs. “My brothers are gone and my parents have to stay here and look after Cristobal. That means it’s up to me to do something.” She lets out a sad little laugh. “And I don’t think I can stay here, and I can’t go back to school like nothing’s happened.”

Ash recites with a twinkle in her eye: 

“With foes ahead, behind us dread,/ Beneath the sky shall be our bed,/ Until at last our toil be passed,/ Our journey done, our errand sped./ We must away! We must away!/ We ride before the break of day!”

“Come on then, Mr. Baggins,” Samantha laughs. Ash turns pink to her collar--how has she not noticed how nice Sam’s laugh sounds before now? Tolkien would probably not approve.

***

“What can I do for you, Operative?” Dr. Kaija Ruud stands as Ueno enters her laboratory. With a motion of her hand, the sample she was studying drifts down in a blue bubble.

“I did review the file, but perhaps you could clarify what exactly your project does.”

“Simply put, we’re trying to take what nature has given us and improve upon it. One of our divisions focuses on cybernetic enhancement; I’m sure you saw some of our handiwork at your last assignment.” He nods, curtly. “My division is trying to master biotic potential: how to induce it, and how to make it more potent. We’ve been able to draw on the results from the Pragia experiments as a starting point. A topic of some personal interest to me.”

“So, build a better human?”

“Build the best human,” she corrects him. “Unfortunately, that means studying other races with more consistent or more powerful biotics, especially the asari.”

He nods, understanding. “You need me to acquire additional specimens.”

Her nose wrinkles. “Oh, no, I have sufficient resources with respect to asari, krogan and the like. All already deceased, of course--I don’t have any field-trained operatives, hence your transfer, and I can’t afford to draw undue attention to my project. No, what I need are genetic samples of the Collectors.

“I don’t think a solo attack against the Collectors is a profitable use of my time.”

“Of course not; that would be suicide. Now, an ambush against an Alliance installation with fire support.” She beams. “How does that suit you, Mr. Ueno?”

“I think I’m going to enjoy that.” He lets a rare note of pleasure enter his voice.”

“Welcome to Project Ubermensch.”

***

Neither of them have too many possessions, and Ash just has to make a few calls before they’ve hitched a ride on a freighter. “So.” Sam surveys the room. “One room, one bunk.”

“I’ll take the,” her eyes skim the sparse furniture, “chair. Or maybe the floor.”

“I actually don’t think there’s enough floor for you to sleep on. And that chair is going to destroy your back.” Ash winces when she looks at it more closely. “Nope. We’ll have to share the bed.” Ashley’s probably just imagining those notes of terror and excitement in Sam’s voice, right? 

“Sure,” Ash says easily. She’s bunked down in some pretty tight quarters including a frozen, nameless moon where the whole platoon had curled up for warmth. “We’re all adults here. And it’s only for one night.”

***

It is possibly the longest night of Sam’s short life. They can’t help but touch in the tiny bed, back to back. Every fiber of her being wants to roll over and glomp Ashley’s muscular back, her powerful arms, to cup her breasts and press tender kisses along the tendons of her neck. It’s too much, but finally her frenetic heart stills to sleep.

She is awakened what feels far too early the next morning by motion beside her. “Sleep okay?” Ash beams at her. “I was surprisingly comfortable.” She tries not to think about how much of that is attributable to Samantha’s warmth behind her. 

Sam mashes her face into her hand. “Bloody morning people.” 

“Come on, soldier,” Ashley teases her. “The sooner we get moving, the sooner we can find Shepard and leave Tuchanka.”

“You’re sure she’s there?”

“If Liara was sure, then I’m sure,” Ashley says firmly. “C’mon.”

Half an hour sees them on Tuchanka’s ruined wastes. Turns out Wrex is the king of this particular chunk of post-apocalyptic dystopia; not Ashley’s first choice, but whatever jumps his FTL drive. They’ve just about run out of polite ways to turn down slugs of ryncol when Shepard returns, leading the krogan from Horizon and… “Garrus? What the hell happened to you?”

“Rocket to the face,” the turian says matter-of-factly. “I think I came out of it looking pretty damn good, all things considered.” He strikes a preening pose and she slugs him in the arm. “How about you, Williams?”

“Trying and failing to save colonies from being abducted.” Ashley groans. “Which is why I’m here, ma’am.” Words catch in her throat. See, she tells herself, this is why you steal half your lines from poets in the public domain. “Permission to join the crew, ma’am?”

“That’s skipper to you,” Shepard informs her with a grin. “Permission granted. And for your plus-one.” She appraises Sam. “Didn’t think she was your type. Cute, though.”

“Sorry, did we miss the part where I’m _right here_? And the bit where we’re _not dating_?” Samantha interjects. “And oh God, you’re Commander Shepard. And my first interaction with you was to sass you. This is going to go swimmingly.”

Ashley puts a comforting hand on her shoulder, and they get through the introductions peaceably enough, including those aboard the ship. Then Ashley darts off to ‘shoot the shit’ (her words) with Garrus and Tali. Sam thinks there’s a 40% chance they’re secretly plotting to space the Cerberus crew. She carefully doesn’t mention this to Kelly Chambers. 

“So,” the redhead asks. “How long have you had that crush?”

Sam sags against a bulkhead. “Is it that obvious?”

“To be fair, I am the ship’s psychologist. I’m trained to notice things like this. And then provide appropriate therapy as needed so that the psychological issues don’t affect team performance.”

“Even though I’m not part of Cerberus?” She asks. She seems friendly enough, Samantha thinks. Probably what she needs most is an orgasm to take the edge off. For some reason she gets the feeling the bubbly woman would be willing to oblige. She shakes her head.

“Yes, of course,” Kelly beams. “I’ve rather enjoyed getting to talk to the various specialists Shepard has brought aboard--they offer such fascinating perspectives. But we are always hiring, if you’re interested.” 

“I’m...not exactly soldier material.” Sam tries to decline politely.

“Not everyone is. Of course, if that was what you wanted, we do offer the necessary physical enhancements. You might be an excellent candidate for the Nemesis project, for instance.”

“Oh?” Sam tries not to sound too excited. Not that she wants to make Cerberus a career choice, but hey. Physical enhancements could be...interesting.

“It’s a special sniper and infiltration training program,” Kelly stage-whispers. “I didn’t qualify,” I wonder why, Sam thinks, “but you might.”

“I’ll..have to consider it,” she manages as Kelly sends over a few files to her omnitool. “Maybe this way Ashley will give me more than a second look.” Kelly tilts her head, and Sam accepts the offer to continue. “Just between you and me, she thinks she’s completely straight. But she’s got the most blindingly obvious crush on Shepard.”

“So you’re a little jealous?”

“Tiny bit.”

Kelly nods and pats her on the back. “I should probably get back to work, but my door is always open. Not that I have a door, which is odd, because you would think that the psychologist would be able to meet with her patients in private.” She rolls her eyes. “Bad enough we have EDI listening in.”

“Who?”

“Enhanced Defense Intelligence,” EDI informs her, and provides a brief description of her role aboard the ship. 

“Oh!” Sam gasps, trying to use her genuine surprise to mask her equally genuine arousal. If not love at first sight, then at least lust at first hearing. 

“She takes a little getting used to,” Kelly explains tactfully. “But she’s extremely capable.”

“I, erm, look forward to getting to know you better.” Her proffered hand retracts awkwardly. “Samantha Traynor.”

“Pleased to meet you.” EDI’s hologram bobs welcomingly. Well, Sam thinks, at least I seem to have made a friend and picked up another outlet for the sexual tension. So that’s something.

***

Ashley sits in the shadow of the Hammerhead with Garrus and Tali and two bottles of something expensive, because what the hell, the Illusive Man is footing the bill. They’ve covered a fair amount of ground so far...and a more than fair amount of liquid. She squints at Tali, whose head is comfortably in Garrus’s lap, his talons tangled in her scarf. “Are you guys...together?”

“ _Sssshhh!_ ” Tali whispers, too-loudly. “It’s a secret.”

“That would be a yes. Y’know, in case you hadn’t figured it out.” Garrus traces lazy lines on Tali’s shoulder. “It seemed right.”

“You mean we finally realized Shepard wasn’t interested in our heart-eyes.” She strokes his forearm fondly. “Sadly, she seems to be a one-asari kind of woman these days. Speaking of which, have you heard any more news about that mission that she’s thinking about doing with Liara?”

“You mean the intel to take down the Shadow Broker?” Shepard interjects, sneaking up behind them.

“Damn, Shepard!” Garrus laughs. “And here I thought stopping the Collectors was enough to keep you busy.”

“Ah, I’ve got some free time here and there. Already marked every mineral deposit and located every turian colony insignia in the galaxy two years ago.” And there’s that infamous Shepard sense of humor. Ashley smiles in spite of everything. 

“It’s good you’re branching out, then,” Ashley says. “Well, count me in.”

“It’ll be good to get the old gang back together,” Shepard says fondly. “You guys are pretty much the only family I have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poem quoted is Bilbo's Adventure Song, J.R.R. Tolkien.


	6. Reading and Misreading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Liara makes assumptions, Ashley makes a request, and Sam makes the acquaintance of the rest of the Williams clan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think of this section as Ashley's loyalty mission.

Shepard’s driving hasn’t gotten any better in the intervening two years, Ashley reflects. By comparison, the massive ship hovering on the precipice of a thunderhead is downright stable. Mind you, it would have been nice not to have to spend the fight with the Shadow Broker unconscious under a table, but hey, you can’t have everything.

“They’re really rather disgusting, aren’t they?” Sam observes as Shepard takes Liara on a tour of the Normandy’s third deck. 

“They’re sweet!” Ash insists, then reconsiders as Shepard coos into Liara’s not-ear. “Okay, maybe a tiny bit gross.” Her nose wrinkles. “Give me Collectors any day.”

“Sooner rather than later,” Samantha reminds her, poking at her noodles.

“Ugh,” she moans, just before Shepard and Liara join them.

“How’s it going?” Shepard asks.

“Trying not to think about our imminent battle with the Collectors for all the marbles,” Ashley says, “or other equally disgusting things.” Sam titters into the back of her wrist.

“You should have seen Gardner’s cooking before we upgraded his supplies,” Shepard runs her fingers through her hair. “But yeah, I’m running out of excuses. Speaking of which, do you have anything that needs to be taken care of?”

Ashley blinks. “I, erm, wouldn’t mind visiting my family.”

Liara nods vigorously. “I’m sure they’ll approve of your match with Samantha.” Ashley’s jaw drops; Sam nearly gags on a bite of noodles. “Miss Traynor has an engaging sense of humor, and you seem well-suited to each--” Her brow furrows, and she stops, which is good, because if Ashley has to perform mouth-to-mouth, it really isn’t going to help her case. “Goddess, have I been misreading human body language again? My utmost apologies.”

“Have you met Legion yet?” Shepard asks hastily, tugging at Liara’s arm. “Fascinating guy.”

Thanks, Ashley thinks. The Skipper pulling her bacon out of the fire, yet again. (Why was she embarrassed? Why was she glad to be alone with Sam?)

“So.” Traynor draws in a breath. “ _Has_ she been misreading human body language?”

“I...I don’t know.” Ash stands hastily. “I...need some time.” She hates herself as soon as she says it.

“Okay. That’s..okay.” Sam nods as Ash leaves hastily.

Ashley isn’t watching where she’s going and she careens into Kelly Chambers. “Distracted, Lieutenant Williams?”

“Huh? Yeah, I guess so.” She blushes. 

“Anything you want to talk about? Patient-counselor confidentiality?”

Ashley considers this for a moment. Talking to the Alliance headshrinker had felt a little weird, but the doctor had given her some valuable advice on dealing with her grief at the loss of the 212. “This isn’t going to get back to the Illusive Man or that stuck-up Lawson, is it?”

“My understanding is that Commander Shepard has non-Cerberus personnel regularly sweep the Normandy for listening devices. If you like, I can refrain from opening an official file on you. Anything between the two of us is, of course, confidential. I insisted on that when I joined Cerberus.” 

Kelly beams with an earnestness which touches even Ashley’s most cynical bones, and she has to pull herself back to perform a pragmatic calculus. The way she sees it, she has options: One, don’t talk to anybody. Which will probably drive her crazy. Not a good look on her, especially since everyone else seems to be lining up their personal baggage on the mission docket. Two, talk to her family. Sadly, they’re currently only accessible by vidcomm, which means surveillance and permanent records. Not acceptable. Three, she could bounce things off Shepard. Which had the likely side effect of probably bringing up her awkward crush-thing on her superior officer. Out of the question. Four, she could talk to one of the non-Cerberus specialists aboard. This was tempting; Thane and Kasumi in particular seemed like they had had some interesting life experiences. Sadly, she realizes, this would mean potentially keeping a secret between them from Shepard. Again, not a good fit for a squad trying to achieve a sense of unity. 

So she sighs, lets Kelly guide her to an unoccupied room, and she talks about, well, Sam.

“I’m going to send a file over to your omnitool,” Kelly says after a reflective pause. “Read it. Think about it. Get back to me.” She gives Ashley’s hand an earnest squeeze. 

Whatever, Ashley thinks, but she approves the file transfer. She snorts at the title-- _Sexuality and You_? Really?--but she reads through it. Especially the sections under the headings “The Kinsey Scale,” “Bisexuality” and “Demisexuality.” She’s a little skeptical--somehow she always figured this sort of thing was some kind of mystical asari bullshit--but she reads it, and re-reads it. She isn’t sure what ‘box’ she wants to put herself into just yet, but whatever. She’s skimming through it again on the shuttle down to Amaterasu. Sam has one of the seats on the shuttle, Shepard the third. That leaves one for Legion, who had said something about wanting to observe interactions among human blood kin. The rest of the ground crew is taking their cargo shuttle down to the colony for a little R &R while the technical staff finishes installing the IFF.

“What’cha reading?” Shepard asks, red hair falling into her face. 

“The deep parts of my life pour onward,/ as if the river shores were opening out./ It seems that things are more like me now,/ That I can see farther into paintings./ I feel closer to what language can't reach./ With my senses, as with birds, I climb/ into the windy heaven, out of the oak,/ in the ponds broken off from the sky/ my falling sinks, as if standing on fishes.” Ashley recites. “Rainer Maria Rilke.” 

A lie, but Shepard accepts it. Legion’s headpiece whirrs and flashes, but they don’t detect the deception either. 

“That’s lovely,” Sam says. Shepard grins. Sam blushes and checks the heavy pistol at her hip, because they are going to a human colony, and the Collectors aren’t the only threat out there. 

“So,” Sam continues, falling back a few meters from Legion and Shepard, after they land, “you’re bringing me to meet your family.”

“Yyyy-es. In a matter of speaking.”

“Doesn’t have to mean anything,” Sam adds, voice trembling.

“Would you like it to?” Ashley stops midstride, which is good, because Sam jumps into her arms and kisses her. 

She immediately jumps back and wrings her hands. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have--I’m such a--” The rest of her babbling apology is cut off by the howl of laser-fire. The colony’s comm tower explodes.

“Down!” Ashley pulls Sam to relative safety. She can hear Shepard trying to raise the rest of the squad on the radio. “Blood Pack,” she mutters, spotting the crimson paint on the gunship. “Probably slavers.” Sam’s eyes widen. “Get your pistol out. Shoot them until they go down. In the head, if you can. Center mass if you can’t.” Sam nods. “Stick with us, and we’ll get through this.” She’s lost so many; she isn’t going to lose Sam. Not now. Not before they figure what they have together.

“You good, Williams?” Shepard barks, eyes aflame, and oh, there’s that crush again. 

“Aye-aye, Skipper.”

“I’ll take point. You and Traynor cover my flanks, but keep that boomstick handy in case things get up close and personal. Legion, you’ve got our six.” They move in their little diamond through the colony, staying on track for the nearest Blood Pack shuttle. 

***

Hiroto Ueno surveys the scene. In another day the Collector remains would be transferred to a heavily-secured facility. But for now they reside in a lightly-manned storage depot. With no-one watching, he permits himself a derisive snort. Perhaps a dozen sentries, no more. “Operative Grimes, I think it's high time that Project Atlas gets its baptism by fire.”

Rushkin Grimes grins inside his cockpit. “Deploying in three...two...one.” The enormous mech detaches from the dropship, landing within the defensive perimeter. Its first salvo destroys the anti-air turret, allowing the shuttle full of troopers to descend. Ueno dispatches the sentries on the wall, each with a single shot from his rifle. Grimes wades into the midst of the remaining Alliance troops as the Cerberus reinforcements swarm the facility to secure the Collector DNA samples. “I think I could get used to this,” the test pilot opines, triggering another rocket.

“Just make sure the site remains secure long enough for extraction,” Ueno remarks. “No reinforcements sighted yet.”

“Just because your sense of humor was surgically removed doesn’t mean you have to ruin it for the rest of us,” Grimes quips, crushing a soldier with a backhand blow. Ueno would shake his head with disgust, but the motion would ruin his aim. 

***

There are a ton of vorcha. Seriously, how are there so many vorcha? Amaterasu isn’t that big, Sam thinks, but the colony seems to have swollen like an infected pustule to accommodate them. The thoroughfares seethe with vorcha and their captives. Sam wonders vaguely what Legion must think of this; say what you will about the geth, but they don’t take slaves. And no surprise, she muses, given what she knows of their history. At least this she can do something about.

She’s fired her pistol in anger, thinks she’s killed a few but she can’t be sure because she’s more jittery than her first allnighter when she downed four espressos and half a tray of brownies. 

She screams when a krogan charges into the middle of them and Ashley charges right back at it, shotgun bursting. She empties her clip into the crimson-armored hulk, distracting him enough that Ashley can get an arm free and trigger her shotgun again into the krogan’s chin. “Ohmigod, are you okay?” Sam asks, nauseated by the blood soaking into Ashley’s armor.

“I’ll be fine,” Ashley says, more fondly than curtly. She shoves the massive corpse away easily. Oh look, Sam thinks, as if I needed more hormones coursing through my blood. “Come on.” 

“Williams-Lieutenant,” Legion says, and she’ll be just fine fighting alongside a Geth, thank you, ma’am. “This way.” 

Shepard’s already in cover, looking at a large group of humans surrounded by Blood Pack mercs. Maybe a dozen unfriendlies, maybe fifty humans. Ash gasps--her mother is in the group of captives. Off to the side, a large transport. “Traynor, I hate to ask this of you, but if the rest of us started shooting people and causing a distraction, do you think you could slip into that ship and disable it?”

“Shepard--” Ash interjects.

“Talk to me, Traynor,” Shepard ignores her, eyes on the young woman.

Sam gulps. “I can do it.”

“Alright, then.” Shepard grins, toothy and fey, back at her. “Time for me to become a distraction.” With a whoop, she is charging in like a blur, leaving Ashley and Legion to shake their heads in her wake. 

***

Traynor waits until all eyes are on Shepard before sneaking off to the other side and behind the ship. “Fortunately these things are pretty standard,” she says, more to herself than anything else, hacking the door open. She sneaks through the metal corridors, praying she doesn’t encounter anyone. But the ship is silent, and she reaches the cockpit. “Great,” she thinks. “Now how do I disable it?” Her hands go to her hips in thought and brush her sidearm. “Oh. Right.” She blushes, but draws and shoots again and again until the cramped room fills with smoke. She sprints, coughing, from the ship, to find her friends firmly in control of the situation.

“Sam!” Ashley looks up at her from her embrace of an older woman. “Mom, this is Sam Traynor.”

“Your friend,” and somehow this stings worse than the smoke in her eyes. “Yes, you’ve mentioned her.” 

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“We’ve got to get back to the ship,” Shepard blurts out, face pale. “Now.” She stops, realizing she’s blundered in. “Sorry, everyone. Um, nice work, Traynor.” The civilian blushes--it had been kind of a rush--maybe she should think about Nemesis training after all? “Take five minutes to, ah, catch your breaths. Legion and I will make sure the captives are clear and the rest of the squad is alright.”

Ashley picks up where she left off with her mother. “I need you to take my sisters back to Earth, or the Citadel. At least for a little while, until we take care of the Collectors.”

“The what?”

“Collectors, ma’am.” Sam is startled to hear herself interject. “Aliens working with the Reapers.”

“And they’re a real threat?”

“They took my brothers, ma’am.” 

“So you’re helping my Ashley fight them?” Sam nods. “Good on you. Make us proud.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poem quoted is Rainer Maria Rilke's "Moving Forward."


	7. Meet Me On The Other Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to hit the Collector Base. Will everyone make it out alive?

The Normandy is unnervingly empty with its crew reduced to one pilot and one AI. Sam is just as glad that Shepard has called everyone into the War Room, which is weirdly cozy. She zones out through most of the speech, though she gets the sense that it’s rather inspiring. She’s utterly distracted by the fact that they’re finally going after her missing brothers and the rest of the kidnapped colonists, not to mention the Normandy’s crew.

Ashley meets up with her afterward. It’s not so hard to find a bit of privacy now. “Look, about what happened on Amaterasu…”

“I’m so sorry about that,” Sam says, eyes downcast. 

“No, don’t be, but…” She takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to make any rash decisions just because we might both be dead in ten hours. I don’t know what we are to each other, but if we make it through this,” she clasps Sam’s hands, “maybe we can find out?”

“That sounds good,” Sam says dumbly, because it beats rejection and fumbling around. “Thank you,” because at least if she is going through the gates of hell, she has something to look forward to.

“No, thank you--I’ve learned so much about myself--things I wasn’t willing to learn before--thanks to you.” She blushes, which is weirdly hot. “So, um, take care of yourself?”

I love you, Sam thinks. “You too.”

***

The jump through the Omega-4 relay is a little harrowing--there’s a massive debris field right on top of them when they jump out, followed by a dogfight with some weird round fighters and a showdown with the cruiser from Horizon. Ashley’s heart sinks at the too-familiar sight, but the ship’s upgrades prove their worth, and they survive the fight as well as the crash landing onto the main base with all hands. 

Mind you, the base itself is crawling with Collectors, and their plan involves guiding Tali through some kind of ventilation shaft with a pernicious tendency to overheat. She’s worried about Tali and about Sam, who is following Garrus with the bulk of their force. Sam had insisted on coming along instead of staying with the Normandy; not that Ashley can blame her--nothing could hold her back if her sisters had been taken. Still, it’s not as comforting as it could be. Well, there’s nothing she can do for it now but make sure she comes out on the other side. She sprays fire at a fresh wave of Collectors as Miranda vents the heat from the ventilation shaft. Her shots find homes, which is nice, and Miranda and Shepard’s biotics send their enemies flying. At least the shaft seems to be bulletproof, because Tali is terribly exposed. They can’t have much further to go, can they? They wend their way through turn after turn, ambush after ambush.

At last they meet up with the other group as planned, sealing a massive blast door behind them. The room is filled with a nauseating number of pods. “Goddess,” Samara mutters, which has to suffice them for reaction, because the pods are full of people, and Samantha has just watched her elder brother turn into pulp. Ash smashes open another pod, and another, until her shoulders are sore with the effort. They’ve saved almost all of the crew and most of the colonists. But not enough.

***

Samantha’s sobbing, hugging Brendan to her. She doesn’t hear anything until Shepard’s voice cuts through the fog.

“I need two volunteers to escort these people back to the Normandy. Hopefully we’ll have cleared enough of a path so they won’t meet too much resistance, but these people aren’t fighters.”

Sam realizes that she has to be the big sister now, and she stands and squares her shoulders. “I’ll go with them.”

Ash’s heart flip-flops at this. She’s torn between wanting to protect Sam, and needing to be in the thick of the fight. She’s almost grateful when Mordin raises a three-fingered hand and volunteers, noting that his medical expertise might be valuable if any of the civilians are injured.

For Ashley, the rest of the mission goes by in a blur. She’s honored when Shepard brings her through the seeker clouds, fighting in Jack’s little biotic bubble. She wishes she could go with Shepard into what turns out to be the final battle, but she mans the barricade with the best of them to keep the Collectors off Shepard’s back. The fighting is fierce, but at least it occupies her mind until they get back to the Normandy. She has to restrain herself from whooping with joy when she sees Joker, of all people, laying down covering fire. 

And, hey, Sam’s alive and well. So there’s that. If only she could figure out what ‘that’ means.

***

Sam should really be looking forward to going back to Horizon. She hasn’t seen her parents since she left, and barely talked to them. She’s been _way_ outside her comfort zone, gallivanting around the galaxy on a terrorist ship. And she’ll always have fond memories of the little colony--it’s where she met Ashley, after all.

It’s who isn’t making the return trip that bothers her. Kyle, most obviously. Mario, her other brother’s best friend. Cristobal’s parents (though at least his aunt and three siblings made it). All in all, maybe a third of those who were taken never saw the sky again. There isn’t even anything to bury, but at least now everybody knows whose friends, family, lovers are coming back, and whose aren’t. Nearly everybody has lost somebody. They wind up building a big bonfire and throwing on little mementos of the deceased. Clothes, mostly. Stuff you wouldn’t want to have as a keepsake but that still had some emotional tie to the loss. The fire burns well into the next morning.

“You okay?” Ashley asks. Their eyes are bleary from smoke and lost sleep and too many tears.

“No.” She heaves a sigh into the flames. “But, I think, better.” She looks over at her parents, sitting in a tight little circle with the Alvarezes. 

“Going to stay here with them?” Shepard asks, wandering into their conversation. Sam stammers. “Because there’s still room on the Normandy for you as part of her crew, at least for now. We’ll be unloading anyone who doesn’t want to face the music, but then we’re going back to the Alliance, and I know you were going to join up there. Can’t make any promises after that, of course.”

“I’d like to stay as long as you’ll have me, Commander,” Traynor says primly.

Shepard breaks into a broad grin. “You keep a hold of this one, Ash. Trust me.” Ashley starts to protest but Shepard just holds a finger to her lips. “Well, enough about the future. We’re still drinking to forget the past tonight.”

“...would this be a bad time to point out that it’s nearly seven in the morning?”

Shepard squints at the rising sun. “Details.”

***

“A pity that Shepard felt it was necessary to destroy the Collectors’ base,” Dr. Ruud remarks. “The additional samples would have been most helpful. Still, we should be able to proceed with the data already collected. The information gleaned from the krogan’s tank was a pleasant bonus.”

“It is just as well, then, as I am being transferred back to Wolfshadow.” An exceptionally keen observer might have noticed a pleased twinkle in Ueno’s eye. “Perhaps they will have need of my skills sooner rather than later.”

***

Sam’s eyes are sore when she plunks down across from Ashley in the mess. “I have no idea what happens next. For anything.” War with the Reapers on the horizon. Family dynamics shaken up. Her classes are over, which means she’s reporting for duty with the Alliance as soon as the Normandy gets back to Earth. Oh, and her best friend/girlfriend, literally right in front of her.

“Me either,” Ashley admits. She takes Samantha’s hands, is startled to see they are shaking. “But we’ll face it together, yeah?”

A tiny smile fills Sam’s face. “Yeah.”

***

“What happens next, Skipper?” Ashley asks. They’re ‘debriefing’ over whiskey in the starboard observation deck. She might have wished they could have kept some of the tech from the Collector base, but if the only option was to give it to the Illusive Man, she could understand destroying the base entirely.

“I’ve got to turn myself in; that was what I promised Hackett, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.” Ash takes another plug of the whiskey. “If it helps, I think you did the right thing.”

“Thanks, Lieutenant.” They watch the stars go by in silence. “They’re still coming. And if I’m still in the brig, somebody has to be leading the fight.”

“I’ll do more than keep the seat warm for you, Skipper.” They clink glasses.

“So, how about Traynor?”

“Commander!” Ashley groans. “We’re...still figuring things out.”

“Well, make sure you work faster than the Council. I swear to god, Tevos is part elcor.”

“Yeah, yeah. And are you going to have your Shadow Broker bust you out?” 

“Insubordination and mutiny, Lieutenant,” Shepard teases her. “One of us is still on the Alliance’s payroll, after all.”

That’s the last time they talk until there are Reapers in the sky over Earth.


End file.
